Interesting piece on Phillip Carberry and his chance on Point Barrow in the Sunday Independent today:
Another Carberry to prove point
WHEN they returned to the winners' enclosure, Philip Carberry dismounted and the investigations began. Sublimity, a 16-1 shot, had won the Champion Hurdle, not Brave Inca or Hardy Eustace, not the English talking horse Detroit City. Reporters turned to their notes for help. The jockey was 26-years-old, from Co Meath and a member of a famous racing dynasty. Now they had their handle: a brother of Paul and Nina. He was the other Carberry.
So with a vague sense of recognition, the following day's headlines could be composed. The unheralded rider finally stepping out of the shadow of his better-known siblings was the gist. Of course, Nina would complicate it further by winning the Sporting Index Handicap Chase on HeadsontheGround, her second Cheltenham victory, less than an hour later. The greatest day of Philip Carberry's racing life and still he was only half the story.
Over three weeks later, he sits in the lobby of a Curragh hotel and smiles at the memory. No, he says, the headlines didn't bother him. How could they? At 4.0 on the morning after the Champion Hurdle - long before the paper boys had oiled the chains on their bicycles - Carberry was driving to Birmingham where he boarded a flight for Paris. That afternoon, far removed from the fuss of the Festival, he rode three horses for Francois Cottin at Enghien.
In the cross-country race, Il De Boitron gave him an exhilarating ride in eighth place and seeing Nina win made the day so much sweeter. Years ago, when they were growing up, he remembers his father Tommy dispensing some advice. "You're all individuals," Tommy would tell them. "You need to fight your own battles." That, says his son, is what they've always done. "We don't stand on each others toes."
Of Tommy's six kids only one, Mark, escaped the racing bug. Philip can't recall a day when he didn't feel intoxicated from the buzz of riding horses. He tells of the day Bobbyjo won the National in 1999; Paul swinging from the rafters in the winners' enclosure, his father grinning from ear to ear. In the midst of all the madness he led the horse up and quietly took in the ecstasy of it all.
"It was brilliant, unbelievable," he says. "To think that the previous Irish-trained winner was L'Escargot, trained by my grandfather and ridden by my father. Then Dad trains the next winner with his son riding it. That's pretty legendary, isn't it?"
Saturday gives him the opportunity to carve his own legend
Great days but, like Tommy said, he has his own battles to fight and Saturday gives him the opportunity to carve his own legend when he rides Point Barrow, the horse he rode to win last year's Irish Grand National, in the Aintree equivalent. "Irish National winners have been lucky at Aintree," Carberry says, oozing the quiet confidence that is a family trademark. "Looking along those lines you'd have to give Point Barrow a great chance."
He has ridden over Aintree's imposing fences before, but not in the most famous steeplechase of them all. Since Cheltenham it is the race that has dominated his thoughts. Not nerves, he says, just feverish anticipation. The last 12 months have brought him an Irish National, the Grand Steeple-Chase de Paris and two Cheltenham Festival victories. Now he hopes to add the National and sees no impediment to his dream beyond bad luck.
In Carberry, you notice things that are typical of his family and things that are not. He shares Paul's boyish charm, if not his brother's outrageous natural ability on horseback. And whereas Nina tends to talk cautiously about turning professional, there is a steely focus about Philip that catches the eye. He thinks deeply about the game and his place in it and the places he wants to go.
He knows there is a golden circle of jockeys, including Paul, at the top of the tree that will likely remain outside his reach. Each year he averages somewhere around 25 winners, a respectable total but not a headline-grabbing one. So he sets his sights on the big races and dreams about them during idle moments. "It's the big ones that count," he says. "A big winner is worth 10 or 20 ordinary ones. If I got a name as a big-race jockey, it wouldn't be a bad reputation to have."
To this point his career has progressed relatively seamlessly. Modestly, he ascribes a portion of it to luck. He was 17 when he rode his first winner, his father's Native Status, at Bellewstown in 1998. It was the first time he'd ridden over hurdles. By the end of the season he'd ridden four more winners, including the Champion Bumper at Punchestown. The professional ranks beckoned.
A year later he won the claimers' title with 32 winners. It was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it showcased his ability, a curse because it meant he was a boy among men before he'd hit 20. "I lost my claim quickly and that made it hard," he says. "Suddenly you're level with the likes of Charlie Swan and Conor O'Dwyer and it's dog eat dog."
For a while he thought there might be a better pathway on the flat and he spent a season and a half with James Burns. For a man who flies helicopters for a hobby, however, racing without the thrill of jumping felt incomplete, like drinking non-alcoholic beer. With his father and Arthur Moore behind him, winners came in a steady stream. He has arrangements with Pat Hughes and John Carr and rides every second week or so in France. There is little time to stand still.
It was Christmas in 2005 when Carr brought him to Fairyhouse to school Sublimity over hurdles. That was the turning point. He'd never sat on a horse with so much pure speed. If he could learn to jump and settle in longer races, Carberry knew they had a young horse with the potential to go all the way to the top, a Champion Hurdler in the making.
Three months later Sublimity arrived in Cheltenham for the Supreme Novices' Hurdle. A week before the race Carberry had arrived at Carr's house with a stack of videos of previous renewals of the race. Together they sifted through them and devised a plan.
"We based it on Montelado's run in 1993," Carberry says. "Like Montelado, our horse was having only his third run over hurdles. With that kind of inexperience you're better off trying to play it safe than staying in the hustle and bustle of the race. At the start he wasn't concentrating in amongst horses but once he was on the outside he was able to relax and jump well."
The payback came when a loose horse pushed him wider than he wished on the approach to the straight and they ended up a fast-finishing fourth, less than four lengths behind the winner. Before the race Carberry remembers talking to Bill Hennessy, Sublimity's owner, and advising him to check out prices for the following year's Champion Hurdle. Even in defeat the jockey's confidence soared.
"I'm usually modest myself, but if anybody else had been riding him they'd have been shouting from the rooftops. He's that good. We said we were going in with a level-headed chance. We just knew he was very very good. People said we'd never out-battle Brave Inca, but we thought we'd go by him without having to battle. He had that speed and that class. We'd every right to go there with confidence."
Before the race Carberry had sat down with Carr and explained how he was going to ride the race. Blissfully, every part of it went to plan. Carr hadn't doubted it. Twice Carberry had ridden big handicap winners for him at the Punchestown Festival, landing gambles in the process and riding both times from the rear with imperious confidence. His faith in the jockey was unshakeable.
Point Barrow has had the kind of eye-catching build-up patented by Carberry's father
As is Carberry's faith in the horse. This year he noticed Sublimity had matured and become stronger and next year he thinks he will be even better. "I think he could mould into a pure champion," he says, "and hold his title for a while. Our aim is to emulate Istabraq. When you get a horse like this, you have to aim high."
And now there are others. Tomorrow he rides Well Tutored for Arthur Moore in the Irish Grand National and sees him as a live outsider. In May there'll be Princesse D'Anjou seeking to repeat last year's victory in France's greatest steeplechase. Before that, though, there is Aintree and Point Barrow and a headful of dreams.
Like Bobbyjo in 1999, Point Barrow is a nine-year-old, the perfect age for the race he thinks. Last month he ran a nice race when finishing third in a handicap hurdle at Navan and has had the kind of quiet, eye-catching build-up patented by Carberry's father. So he is as confident as a Grand National novice dares to be.
"I'm not nervous about it. My horse is a safe jumper. There's no point being worried anyway. If something happens that's out of your control, there's nothing you can do about it. You have to realise you can't control the whole race. You can just control yourself and the horse. You have to react to your surroundings. Go in with an open mind and take the opportunities that come."
He knows dangers will assault him on all sides. Slippers Madden on Numbersixvalverde, Ruby Walsh on Hedgehunter, both former winners. And most intriguingly of all, his brother Paul on the ante-post favourite Dun Doire. He knows this will be the story: the two market principals ridden by Carberrys, brother against brother, Cain against Abel.
"It's a nice story," he says. "That's about it. I'm well used to going up against Paul and he's well used to riding against me. It makes no difference to me. Dun Doire has always been associated with good jockeys and he'll be treated like every other horse in the race, at least by me anyway."
Some time during the week he'll start doing the work. He'll sit down with Pat Hughes and discuss tactics and watch videos of past races with his father. For now it just turns repeatedly, relentlessly around in his head. "I'm just enjoying it," he says. "Thinking about different things. What would happen if that happened, that sort of thing, see what the other horses might be doing and where that leaves you. Just going over all these different angles."
The more he thinks about it, the better it seems. The sound of a plan falling into place: Philip Carberry will tell you it is the sweetest thing.
John O'Brien